


Russian Roulette

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cold War, F/F, Film Noir, Identity Porn, Opposites Attract
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-12-30 17:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12113631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: The line between actor and spy is a fine one.





	Russian Roulette

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).



> Huge thank you to my beta [whovianlord](http://whovianlord.tumblr.com/)!

**Berlin, 1961**

Lotte doesn’t know that Anna is a spy. That’s a fact. Anna has taken extra care with her lover to avoid seeming anything other than the dark and mysterious German librarian that Anna Sommer is. Anna Sommer’s personality is not that different from Anna Ivanovna Petrova’s, so she finds it easy to pretend with Lotte. The first secret identity she ever had, an American fashion writer, was the complete opposite from her real persona, and she found that much harder. Still, she has learnt from the past, and remembers the lessons it taught her. Knowledge is power, after all.

On this Friday night, Anna enters the nightclub where she has arranged to meet Lotte. Her heels click on the floor as she heads over to the bar, ignoring the looks she must be attracting from the clientele. She knows she cuts a striking figure: tall and slim with brown colouring, navy blue dress, and dark brown lipstick. Who could resist her?

She orders a gin and tonic and looks around for Lotte. When she sees everyone but her lover, she perches on the barstool and fishes a cigarette out of her handbag.

“Need a light, darling?”

Anna turns over her shoulder to find Lotte standing there. Her lips curl, and she takes the proffered lighter from Lotte’s pale hand. As she lights up, she notices that Lotte’s already puffing on one of her Gauloises.

Anna takes a drag, then hands back the lighter and says, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Lotte laughs. “Hello to you too.” She sits down.

“I can’t stay long tonight, I’m afraid,” Anna tells her. “I have something to do. Sorry.”

Something to do, and somewhere else to be. This is her last night in Berlin, and the last time she’ll ever see Lotte. But she can’t reveal any of that, can’t even say goodbye. She tries to keep her expression neutral.

For a second, disappointment flashes on Lotte’s face, but she covers it up with a sly smile. “We’ll just have to make the most of it, then.” She traces Anna’s jaw with her index finger. “Fancy a quick one in the ladies?”

Lotte wears a bright red evening dress. It doesn’t make her appear any taller but it does make her muscles and short blonde hair stand out. She oozes sexuality for the whole club to see, but only one person here is allowed to touch her. It drives Anna wild.

Anna peers at her glass, which is full. “Soon,” she says, the word thick with promise.

Lotte leans in, cleavage on show just for Anna, and whispers in her ear, “Good. Because I’ve been wanting you all day.”

The feeling is mutual. Anna inhales a sharp breath and presses her thighs together. “I think we can come to an agreement,” she murmurs.

Lotte sits back in her stool and extinguishes her cigarette, all the while keeping her blue eyes fixed on Anna’s brown ones. “So, how was work?”

 

**That morning**

The library was almost empty, and the few customers browsing the shelves seemed to be ignoring Anna’s presence. She slipped a square piece of paper onto the counter and wrote out a ten-digit code. Making sure she wasn’t being watched, she folded the notepaper in half and opened up _Poems of West and East_ by Vita Sackville-West, which sat on top of a pile of poetry collections to be returned to the shelves. The untranslated book by an Englishwoman was an unusual choice for the library, but Anna thought that books by bisexual women deserved to be available for people like her to read. She slid the note inside the pages.

Gathering the pile of books, she got up from her seat and strolled over to the poetry section, where she placed the books back on the shelves.

“Good morning, Anna!” sang a sweet voice behind her.

She pushed the last book into place and turned to Lotte, trying to calm her heartrate. She smiled. “My, this is a surprise. Couldn’t wait until seven?” she teased.

“Would you believe I was just passing by?” said Lotte, stepping closer. “I slept late anyway, for reasons we both know about –” she waggled her eyebrows “– so I thought I’d give my sweetheart a morning kiss on the way to work.”

Anna glanced around them. Deciding it was safe, she wrapped her arms around Lotte’s waist and pulled her closer. Lotte came to her with a grin.

“I like the way you think. You’re always so thoughtful, Lotte.”

Lotte responded by capturing Anna’s lips with her own, distracting her for a second from any concerns about Lotte being late for work. Anna could get lost in Lotte’s kisses, if she let herself. She didn’t let herself.

She pulled away, and patted Lotte’s arm. “You should go,” she said, though it was the last thing she wanted. “Don’t keep Frau Ritter waiting for her perm.”

Lotte chuckled. “All right. I’ll see you this evening.”

“Fräulein Sommer!” Anna’s boss interrupted from the loans desk.

She looked at Lotte and rolled her eyes. No matter how many times she insisted that she was a grown woman deserving of the title “Frau”, he was stuck in his old ways. Someday, a woman with more time on her hands would teach him how to address women with respect.

“I have to go.” Anna kissed Lotte’s cheek and said, “See you later.”

She turned on her heel and returned to the loans desk, her clandestine task complete. She couldn’t wait until tonight.

 

**Present**

Anna has finished both her drink and her cigarette by now. She and Lotte have been comparing their respective days at work and thinking about the weekend, Lotte suggesting they go to the cinema on Sunday afternoon. Anna says yes without a second thought, despite knowing full well that she’ll be out of the country, let alone the city, by then.

Now Lotte asks something else. She asks about disappearing to somewhere more private.

“Let’s go,” says Anna.

Despite her cool persona, in moments like these, Anna is anything but cool. No, she is _hot_ , and only Lotte can put out her fire. She will make her last time with Lotte something to remember when she is far away from here.

They crash into the toilet cubicle and come together in a hot frenzy, hands under skirts, mouths on mouths, and bodies pushed against chipboard walls. Anna’s hunger, which has consumed her all day, is tended to in ways even she hasn’t been expecting.

When they part, she composes herself. She washes her hands in the basin, meeting Lotte’s gaze in the bathroom mirror. She fixes her hair and touches up her lipstick until her appearance matches that of the impeccable woman who entered the club not long ago. Lotte does the same, with a satisfied smile on her rosy face.

Anna turns to her. “This has been lovely,” she says, “but I really must go now.”

“Okay.” To add to Anna’s hidden emotional turmoil, Lotte forces a smile.

Anna pulls Lotte into an embrace and kisses the top of her head, which only reaches the top of Anna’s breastbone.

“Goodnight,” she murmurs, and pulls away, turning towards the door.

“I’ll see you on Sunday?” Lotte calls. “At the cinema?”

Anna glances over her shoulder. “Of course,” she lies. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

It will be their anniversary on Sunday. Anna banishes the thought and walks away from Lotte for the last time.

 

**Six months earlier**

Anna had been settled in to West Berlin for a week now. She had the correct papers, spoke German with a perfect accent, and had a home and a job. All she had to do now was hand an American schedule over to her contact.

On Saturday morning, she dressed in a plain green shift dress that complemented her olive skin, and headed to her local bakery, where she was to drop off the schedule at ten o’clock. Her mouth watered at the aroma of freshly baked bread.

“Good morning, Fräulein,” said the baker. “How can I help you?”

She returned the greeting, ignoring the unintended patronisation in his chosen term of address, and asked for the time.

“It’s five minutes to ten, Fräulein…?”

“Frau Sommer,” she told him. “Thank you, Herr Bäcker.”

She was early. She took a moment to think, then said, “I’ll come back soon.”

The baker frowned, but let her go after she promised to return and buy some of his bread.

Anna walked out of the bakery and headed into the next shop along. She had to fill in some time, and she might as well use that time to meet people and get her new name out in society. The next shop happened to be a hairdressing salon. She was greeted by a short, cheerful blonde who had five hairclips attached to her left sleeve. Anna’s attention was drawn to the muscular definition under that sleeve.

“Do you have an appointment?” asked the hairdresser.

“No.” Anna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d like to make one.”

The hairdresser beamed. “Of course,” she said, walking over to the counter to consult the book. “What would you like? A cut? A perm? A colour?”

“A perm, please.”

The hairdresser nodded. “You’d suit a perm. Now, I can squeeze you in at quarter past ten – that’s in twenty minutes – or else you’ll have to wait until Tuesday, I’m afraid.”

“The quarter past ten will be fine, thank you,” Anna replied.

The hairdresser picked up a pen and started scribbling something on the page. “Wonderful. May I have your name?”

“Frau Sommer.”

“Excellent.” The hairdresser finished writing and closed the appointment book. “I’m Lotte,” she said, holding Anna’s gaze as she stuck out her hand. “What’s your first name?”

It was Lotte’s boldness that first drew Anna in. Lotte’s way of making her feel important kept her there.

 

**Present**

Anna doesn’t know that Lotte is a spy. She really has no idea, Lotte is certain of that. It makes her want to laugh. No – it makes _Vilena Alexeyevna Volkova_ want to laugh. Lotte Weiss, on the other hand, doesn’t laugh at people’s ignorance.

Once Anna has gone, Vilena returns to the bar and lights up another cigarette. She only manages a few puffs before the barman is grabbing her attention.

“Are you Frau Weiss? Telephone for you,” he says, presenting her with a pale blue receiver.

She thanks him and takes the call. It’s right on time, as expected. Cigarette in her mouth, she listens to the instructions without interrupting, then hangs up and thanks the barman, tipping him for the use of his phoneline. She stubs out her cigarette in the glass ashtray, pulls her brown coat on over her sexy red dress, and leaves the club at half past eight. She has her orders.

Her heels squelch a little on the pavement, as it’s been raining most of the day. The rain has slowed to a drizzle now, but she grimaces as droplets slide down the back of her collar. The things she goes through to help the Motherland and the expansion of communism. She ignores Lotte’s voice telling her that it rains more than this in Moscow and she should be used to it by now. Lotte is an annoying capitalist brat, and Vilena is done playing her. This all ends tonight.

 

**That morning**

As soon as Anna was out of sight, Vilena scanned the bookshelf to her right, her index finger gliding over the books’ spines until she found the one she was looking for. Glancing around the aisle, she pulled the book off the shelf and opened it. She fought to keep her expression neutral as she read the goldmine of information that awaited her. _This_ was what she’d been working to obtain this past year. Twelve arduous months and twice as many operations had come to an end. The power a few numbers and letters had to change lives was amazing.

Vilena stuffed the note inside her bra, closed the book, and returned it to the shelf. For a moment, she was tempted to borrow the book and take it with her, but she was incredibly late. It was her last day at the hairdressing salon – she’d given her resignation a fortnight ago – so she couldn’t get sacked, but she had her own work ethic to uphold.

She left the library with a wave to Anna and without the book.

As she walked to the salon, she thought about how she would reward her agent tonight. She would show her agent just how grateful she was for the information she now held next to her heart. Then she also remembered that this time tomorrow, she would be back in Moscow. She let a smile grace her lips as she thought about home. The smile soon fell as she wondered how the hell she was going to deal with Anna. She liked – maybe even loved – the woman, but tonight Lotte had to say goodbye. It would be an understatement to say it wasn’t going to be easy.

Despite her gloomy thoughts, she put on a fake smile as she entered the salon. Lotte always smiled.

 

**Present**

Vilena shivers a little, wishing she had a warmer coat. She increases her pace to warm herself up and to get to her destination sooner, smiling at the few members of the public out and about after dark. Any minute now, she can shed her Lotte persona and leave this wretched city far behind. But first, she has one more task to complete.

Fifteen minutes after leaving the nightclub, she nears the rendezvous point. She sidles up to the brick apartment building on the corner and peers around it. Most of the street, including where she stands, is cast in shadow. Satisfied that everything is according to what she was told over the phone, she turns the corner, walking with slow purpose into the light.

Anna is standing against a brick wall with her hands in her trench coat pockets, silent and still. A smoking cigarette would complete the perfect picture. She looks up at the sound of Vilena’s high heels on wet pavement.

“Lotte?” she exclaims, confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still at the club.”

Vilena doesn’t smile. Instead, she fingers the revolver inside her coat and comes closer.

Anna straightens. “You should go.” The poor woman is flustered, and her eyes dart from side to side. “I’m meeting a friend here.”

They have been given different instructions. Vilena almost smiles in sympathy, as it dawns on her that this is not part of Anna’s plan, and Anna lives by following plans. Lotte is not the one her agent was expecting to meet.

Vilena keeps slinking closer, stroking her revolver with her index finger. She always feels safer when her gun is on her person. She stops moving only when mere centimetres separate her from Anna, and she stares into Anna’s worried brown eyes. They appear almost black in the dim street lighting.

Without a word, she puts a hand on the small of Anna’s back and guides her down the street, towards the black Borgward that’s parked twenty metres away, waiting for them.

Anna halts. “Lotte, I’m meeting someone,” she says again. She’s still resisting, still not realising.

Vilena keeps her hand on Anna’s back, despite Anna’s best efforts to stay rooted to the spot. Vilena, however, didn’t get her biceps from styling people’s hair, and she moves Anna to the car with a little effort, but not a lot. She opens the car door to reveal an empty and clean backseat.

“I know, Anya,” she says in Russian. Her tone is cold, matter-of-fact, like she has no time for games. Vilena _doesn’t_ have time for games. “Get in.”


End file.
